Sex On Eggshells
by Nova Super
Summary: Cora's suffering with post-natal depression in the months following Edith's birth. Robert's suffering with being a man. How will their bedroom reunion pan out? Part of The Cobert Valentine's Exchange.


_A/N: __My prompt is a little tragic in some ways but I've done my best as always to have some fun bits too. And of course there's the smut - I'm premiereing on Downton shenanigans with this story so I hope you'll all enjoy. It's a bit lengthy but I couldn't really cut it down much. (For those randy individuals amongst you wishing to skip straight to the M bits, please navigate to approximately three-quarters of the way down. Thank you!)  
_

_Prompt: Cora feels the effects of post-natal depression after having baby Edith and rejects Robert's advances. Can he break down the barriers in time for Valentine's Day? _

_Well the answer is of course he can, the real question is how..._

* * *

Sex on Egg Shells

**12th February, 1895**

_"Uhh, uhh... Ohh... Uh! Oh Robert... Robert! Yes! Uhh... Mmm."_

_"Oh Cora, I love you." He never seemed able to stop himself saying that right before climax._

_"Darling... I... love... you... too," she replied between breathy gasps, in time with his rhythmic thrusts. "Ohh..."_

_"Ung! Uhhrrr," came Robert's vocalised efforts. "Mmph."_

_Release._

_"Oh," he heard her whimper as he rolled over and lay on his back with a sigh of utter satisfaction. There never was anything quite like making his Lady Grantham moan quite so... loudly._

_"Phew..." He lay there a moment, relishing in the heat. "I have definitely been missing that-" Robert sat up._

_"Robert."_

"ARGH!" Robert rolled backwards off the bed in complete shock, landing with a loud thud on the floor, swaddled in a heap of tangled bed linen. Reflexively, he jolted upright and got to his feet to discover he was in his dressing room. Breathing heavily, he looked from the bed to different points around the room, assuring himself he was alone. He sighed to himself and wiped his brow on the back of his hand, reaching down to collect the sheets as he sat down on the bed.

He was not in Cora's room, there was no flickering candlelight illuminating her smooth pale skin, they had not just made love. And regrettably, he was alone. Though fortunately Violet wasn't anywhere in sight. That had been the first time she'd popped up in a sex dream of all things. Robert resigned the occurence to the issues he faced at hand.

It began only a few weeks ago, about two months after the baby was born, so yes three and a half weeks ago Robert decided. He was sure it wasn't all because of the baby's gender - of course they all had rather hoped for a boy but there was no disappointment in having another girl. They had years on their side to try again. The pressure wasn't completely insufferable. But after everyone had been to visit and sent cards and gifts for the baby, every day life just seemed to lull. It happened with Mary too but it felt less obvious. The small things were so fresh and new with her, it was their first baby, their first everything. Edith was second and somehow, without intention, the small things became miniscule.

Robert didn't think much of it at first when Cora began having troubles sleeping. Occasionally he'd go through phases himself when he couldn't get a decent night's sleep if something was troubling him. He put it down to the every day stresses of life coupled with having a new baby in the house that caused her sleep patterns to unsettle. And he put it down to Cora's not sleeping that during the days she was often very tired and worn out and her moods were always low just simply because she had no energy. To try to help he moved into his dressing room for a few night's a week, but still nothing changed. If anything it got worse, most days she stopped bothering to get out of bed of a morning. He often saw her crying but she never told him why. If anything could cause more concern, she refused to hold the baby for longer than a few moments and eventually resisted holding or even looking at Edith altogether. Cora's unusual behaviour unsettled Robert. He thought new mothers were meant to be happy? Cora had been glowing all throughout both pregnancies and well into the first months of having Mary, he couldn't understand why it wasn't the same again with Edith?

Robert curled up on his mattress without the covers on and felt something wet against his groin. Oh - and there was that too. He rolled onto his back and pulled off his undergarments in one swift movement and pulled the sheets up to his waist. Robert wasn't a hormonal or needy sort of man when it came to bedroom activities. He appreciated the ease of his affectionate relationship with Cora - and most of the time when one was in the mood, the other was too. But he'd hit a brick wall when his wife displayed sudden disinterest in intimacy. In the last months of Cora's pregnancy it was absolutely not the case - if anything he had to refrain her in case they damaged the baby in some way. But since Edith was born they'd not been together once.

However in recent days he'd been more occupied with just trying to cheer her up above anything else. In the first week he tried to make her his own bouquet of flowers from the garden... but most of the buds weren't yet in bloom, what with the winter season and so his effort came to a pile of twigs and an evergreen branch. Later that week he attempted a family gathering, taking Edith and Mary into Cora's room and reading to them all from his absolutely-most-interesting novel. But Mary quickly grew bored and Edith began to wail.

In the second week, he told her his best choice of jokes but she didn't seem to find them funny. So then he tried telling her about how his mama had mixed up her letters to Rosamund and Reverend Travis.

_"So Rosamund received an eyeful about flowers for the up-coming gala while the Reverend was most disturbed to be addressed as a 'young lady' with threats made about his inappropriate social behaviour and his down-right obvious fraternizing with all those bachelors at Lady Gleninclose's 60th."_

_"Mm," Cora had murmured, completely unfocused on his words while fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.  
_

Following that he attempted to serenade her with Violet and the children on backing vocals but that went down about as well as week-old liver pâté, not just for Cora but all parties involved. That thought gave him inspiration to take her up her favourite meal but that failed miserably also.

_"I'm not really hungry, Robert."_

_"You've not eaten all day and it's your favourite. Washington Pie with that demi-glace thing on it."_

_"Robert, I appreciate the effort but I really don't want to eat anything."_

_"But you've-"_

_"Robert, please!"_

Nothing as yet had worked but Robert would not be mislead from his determination to reconnect with his wife. Valentine's Day was fast approaching and though the day was of little significance to Robert, it was a chance to over-load on romance. Cora was always full of love bugs and butterflies and sunshine and rose petals and stuff at the time of year - she married for love first, after all... Robert was a romantic at heart - underneath the manly exterior (or so he liked to think). The day at least would offer a guise, a lending hand to his methods of returning his wife to her former radiant self. And so in the third week Robert swallowed his pride and consulted a professional to make sure his plans for the 14th would work out as he hoped. This professional did happen to be Doctor Clarkson. And though he was a man and Robert was a man, the issue was still delicate and so their 'short talk' lasted about 2 hours (though Robert didn't keep time) as it was stuffed chocker with awkward silences and hand-gesture translations.

The doctor had given off all number of medical terms and language Robert struggled to keep up with but the basic idea he had suggested was to let Lady Grantham ask for help when she felt able.

_"As you've been readily making available your... aid, Lord Grantham. Perhaps Lady Grantham might need some time to rest before looking to you for... for, err, support. It's not at all uncommon for women to feel down or- or depressed after giving birth, it can be quite traumatic for mothers."_

Robert managed the rest of that week without trying anything it all. But it simply was no good. He had to do _something. _

Sitting cross-legged alone on the bed in his dressing room, a peculiar thought struck him. He'd heard about women in London and other big cities who sold special dances to paying men. Dirty Oswald had been filling Robert in on where to find the best back-alley bars last time they met at the club (though Robert had insisted he'd never need to go in search of such places). Oswald said the women took off all their clothes in very adventurous ways and certainly Dirty Oswald thought he'd gotten his moneys-worth. Robert wondered if men could do the dances too? Sometimes Cora would tease him by very slowly losing her garments, perhaps if he tried something like that she'd find it arousing? It certainly got him in the mood. Robert lay down under the covers, mulling over his idea. It was perhaps worth a shot. It was only his humiliation and pride at stake really. Resolved to incorporate a dance into bedtime routine the next day, Robert tried to snuggle back down to sleep.

* * *

**13th February 1895**

The next day Robert woke up just short of noon, having had restless hours awake following his dream. Most of his business of the next few days sat downstairs in piles of parchment on his desk so really there was no place for him to be. He got up and rang for his valet, got dressed and got down to the dinner table just in time for luncheon. To his pleasant surprise, Cora had made an appearance in the dining room.

"Morning," Robert smiled, passing his hand across her back in comforting gesture. Cora didn't look up, she seemed very absorbed in pushing the food on her plate around with her fork. The smile on Robert's face saddened, he took his seat and picked up his paper. "Ah, look - Oscar Wilde's new play premieres in London tomorrow. We ought to go see a show."

"Robert..." His name, said in her lingo, used to put him at ease. It seemed forever since she'd called for him in tone of affection. He sighed inwardly at the thought, fixed a smile to his face and put down his paper.

"My dear?"

"I'm sorry I've been so distant, I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Don't apologise for anything." Robert's false grin vanished and a more real emotion came over his face.

"I keep feeling things... such horrible things, I don't understand why, I feel... helpless." She looked angry, her eyes darted around as though she searched beyond what they saw. "I can't seem to find... a reason."

"A reason for what, darling?" he prompted, trying not to sound too pushy. She looked up at him, something about her eyes unsettled him. Cora looked devastated and he had no idea by what.

"Living."

Cora left the room and Robert's gaze followed after. The door clicked shut and he stayed, unable to thaw out from what he'd heard. Already his mind was whizzing and playing back what she'd said, trying to unravel some clues. He got nothing but the awful realisation that Cora felt she'd nothing to live for. _Why would she say that?_ Robert thought, feeling suddenly hurt by her over-looking himself and the children. He existed to be hers... most days. He thought he'd given her everything, had he missed something? Was he not being as good a husband as he thought he was? Was he not actually that good in bed? That might explain why she didn't want him anymore... What if she'd been faking everything the past five or six years of marriage? Oh goodness no...

"Robert, I'm sorry." She was back. Robert choked on air, finally getting up from the table and moving towards her.

"I... we... you're-?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head. "Robert, I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"What else? How I've been recently..."

Robert's doubts subsided momentarily, he offered a smile.

"It's alright... We'll get through."

His words, even to himself, sounded unconvincing.

* * *

The rest of that day Cora remained to herself. Robert again had abandoned the work in his study and instead spent some time outdoors with his dog. He revisited his thoughts at luncheon and forced himself into believing he was being paranoid and over-sensitive. Considering all of that could wait until Cora was better - and she would get better, he put the thoughts from his mind. Instead he pondered his confidence in his plans for that night...

Too quickly the evening was upon him, and as Robert bade his valet a good night, he rather wished he had more experience in such things. All he had to go on was Dirty Oswald's rather non-descriptive explanation about his encounters. Robert hurriedly unbuttoned his pyjama shirt, going to the mirror and assessing himself. He tucked his shirt into his pyjama bottoms, leaving it open so his torso was part-visible. He frowned and went to the wardrobe, rifling through his jackets and shirts and coming up with only a dinner tie. He couldn't do it up himself so he discarded it and found a silk scarf he'd been gifted by Rosamund the Christmas just gone. He put it on and re-assessed his reflection, doing a slight jiggle to try to get a feel for what he should do. He looked and felt ridiculous.

Sighing, he went back to the wardrobe and pulled out a tartan coat, top hat, a belt and some gloves. Putting these on, he was sure he'd never seen nor worn a stranger ensemble. Taking a steadying breath, he went to the door adjoining to Cora's bedroom and knocked.

"Yes?"

"Are you alone? I've something to... _show_ you."

"Um, yes Robert, I'm alone."

Robert stuck his head around the door, she was sitting in her bed with a book in her lap.

"Can I come in?"

"Yes," she said slowly, a suspicious look on her face. She had to admit a niggling excitement in her chest. Robert had laid off his peculiar attempts at remedying her low spirits for at least a week, Cora was somewhat relieved he'd not given up just yet.

"Right," Robert sucked a breath in and slipped into the room, closing the door behind himself. Cora looked down at her book, before sneaking a quick-glance at him. He appeared to be wearing an unusual assortment of random items over his pyjamas.

"What on Earth-?" she started.

"Lady Grrrrantham," he growled, his eyes flashing. He suddenly felt like a teenager again, fooling around and being silly - not making a brave but foolish attempt at saving his marriage.

"Robert?" Cora watched him uncertainly. _Improvement_, thought Robert, _at least I have her attention this time_. Robert knelt on the bed before her, pulled off one glove and threw it behind himself. The silence felt stifling and so he started to sing.

"There was once a simple maiden came to New York on a trip,  
And her golden hair was hanging down her back-"

"Oh Robert, really."

"Her cheeks were like the roses; she'd a pout upon her lip,  
And her... dark brown hair was hanging down her back."

Cora pursed her lips and looked down at her book, Robert crawled further onto the bed, loosing the second glove and opening the jacket with some added dramatic flair. Cora peered over her book at him, biting her lip to stifle a smile. He continued singing, somewhat loudly and out of key, he threw off his hat and discarded the belt.

"But alas! And alack! She's gone back  
With a naughty little twinkle in her eye!" Robert grinned, giving her a wink that made her mouth drop open.

But then as Robert tried to throw off his jacket, one arm got stuck, his free arm reached out for something to cling onto and found the dressings of the four-poster bed. Over-balancing and having the scarf up in his face, he lost himself and toppled side-ways out of the bed. Cora was up instantly.

"Darling? Robert are you alright?" She got out of bed, trying not to laugh as he grumbled and fought with his clothes. She helped him up, trying her best not to bruise his pride further.

"I'm fine. Good night Cora," Robert made straight for his dressing room, leaving his other garments strewn on the floor.

"Robert, wait-"

"It was a stupid idea. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

_Slam._

* * *

**14th February 1895**

Standing outside the door after about an hour, he was still unsure if he was going to turn the handle. Unbenknownst to Robert, standing barely a foot from him was his other half, facing him. She had a hand on each side of the door frame, balanced on the balls of her feet and rocking slightly to her anxiety. He leant against the wall and considered the door knob. A wooden door blinded their sight to one another. Robert hadn't dared go back in after his performance but he still wanted so much to be close to her.

Cora traced her fingers over the door handle, turning it slightly. Robert nearly jumped out of his skin on the other side of the door. Calming himself, he whispered, "Cora, are you there?"

"Robert? Why are you out of bed?"

"I might ask you the same thing."

"I'm sorry about earlier..." she muttered, twisting her hands together.

"Don't be, it was my stupid idea."

"It wasn't. But still," she whispered through the door, "dancing was never your forte." She permitted herself a small smile.

"No, not really..."

There was a short silence, Robert pressed his ear against the door, holding his palm against it as though trying to reach her.

"Do you think we ought to open this door?" she whispered.

"Good idea."

Robert turned the handle and the door swung open...

_Moments later...  
_

"Are you tired or is now a good time to talk?" he whispered. They were sat together on her side of the bed. Turned inward to one another but still remaining inches apart.

"We can talk..." she said slowly, nodding. Robert nodded too but then paused. He turned slightly, leaning on his arm.

"I'm scared, Cora." She looked up with an element of shock to those bright blue eyes. "I know my attempts to reach you have been somewhat pathetic, ridiculous even. But I don't know what else to do. I've never seen you like this..."

Cora swallowed and looked away, her shoulders hunched as she stared at her hands.

"I don't know how to _stop_ feeling like this," she shrugged. "I hate feeling so far from you - from you and the children." She looked up and Robert felt lost for a moment.

"Let me in," he said softly.

Cora looked into his eyes and he saw her soul. Tears brimmed and fell down her cheeks, he offered his hand to her - asking permission, willing her to accept him. She stared at his open palm. Her body began to shake. Very hesitantly she lay her left hand in his, her cool touch sent a tingle through him. He could feel his heart racing already - just being able to hold her hand was an honour he had forgotten. The thought made him want to well up too. Cora visibly relaxed, she looked up from their joined hands. They locked looks with one another and finally came together. He held his arms out for her, her head lay against his chest. Robert finally untensed and closed his eyes - the tears could fall freely now.

"No matter how dreadful I feel, Robert, I know I'll always love you."

His eyes flew open, all watery and brilliant blue.

"I'm so in love with you," he said quietly, his throat all tight with emotion. "Nothing can nor will ever change that."

Cora shifted her head to his shoulder and looked up at him, he looked back. The room swirled out of focus for a moment. Robert's gaze flitted between her lips and her eyes. Her mouth was parted, he felt every quivering breath she took as her body moved so slightly and the warmth of her drew closer. He was feeling tense again, maybe this kiss would break the spell - maybe it was like fairy tales! Robert tried not to visibly cringe at his own juvenile excitement. But silly thoughts quickly went out the window, her eyes fluttered shut and he closed the distance.

He pressed his mouth to hers, gently kissing her parted lips. A slight moan emitted from her and Robert relaxed once more, her hot tongue rolled across his lower lip and the familiar taste of her sent him wild with desire. Robert angled his head and kissed her deeper, she ran her fingers through his hair but then pulled away, gasping. Removing herself from his embrace, she sat upright, the cold night air making her shiver.

"Cora-"

"Shh, it's alright," she assured him. She took a shallow breath and quickly asked: "Stay with me tonight?"

Robert opened his mouth to reply but then closed it and nodded, wiping away the dried tears on his cheeks and nodding again. Without touching him, she crawled into the middle of the bed and pulled back the covers, inviting Robert to climb in beside her. Slowly Robert manoeuvred himself between the sheets and sat at her side. They stayed together in a parted moment of silence.

Cora turned herself towards him and tentatively reached out to hold his hand, Robert closed his fingers around her dainty ones and squeezed her hand comfortingly. Taking a deep breath, Cora lay herself down against the pillows and pulled Robert down with her. He lay on his side, his face inches from hers.

"We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't-"

"Robert, I'm alright," she assured him, her free hand smoothed through his hair affectionately. "Darling I've missed you as much as I think you've missed me."

Robert couldn't restrain his utter relief and a smile broke out on his face.

"But still, if you're not ready I understand," he said quickly.

"Robert just shh and make love to me," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with their familiar shine and lust. He felt a light blush in his cheeks as he shifted position and knelt between her parted legs. Colour was coming to Cora's cheeks too, her breathing already laborious as Robert's hands smoothed up her legs and pulled up her nightie, she sat up enough for him to pull it off over her head. He helped her slide back onto her back as he began placing precious affections down her collar-bone to the dip between her pale breasts. Her hands went to the hem of his pyjama shirt and pulled, breaking the connection between his lips with her milky skin for just a moment.

His attention returned to her mouth, he stole a gentle kiss from her while his hands roamed over her thighs and her legs parted further. Robert knelt again and undid the cord on his pyjamas, pulling them down with his other undergarments and throwing the clothes from the bed. Returning to Cora's arms, he relished in the touch of her warm skin on his, her hardened nipples against his chest as her bosom rose and fell with each breath. Her eyes were closed, her arms hung around his neck, she seemed to be concentrating on just breathing.

Robert leant in and brushed his lips to her cheek, she smiled. For a moment he held her in his arms, his cheek against hers, the cold air settling down on Robert's back while he shielded Cora with the warmth of his body. From this position he could smell the traces of her sweet-scented perfume that she dabbed at her neck every morning, mixed with a smell that was just simply his Cora. But soon - he wasn't sure if it was so unbearable for her - but the throbbing of his arousal was becoming a greater torment with every second.

"Are you ready, darling?" he asked her gently.

She smiled at his bedroom manners, "of course I am, Robert."

Slowly he shifted position, lifting himself before finding alignment with Cora. He touched the tip of his erection with her wet opening and she trembled slightly.

"Oh," she gasped, sucking in a deep breath and holding it.

Robert sunk lower, meeting her mouth with a kiss as he slipped within her. She moaned softly with the welcome sensation of his firm iron welding slowly into the folds of her heat. He retracted slightly before penetrating deeper within her. Trying to control his own groans of pleasure, he began to move into her with a gentle rocking motion. Half his full length reaching within her, the craving for a stronger friction grew. Heat settled over them both, a steamy sweat becoming them both as Robert began to thrust within her with more unguided want. The smell of sex rising from their joined bodies with a heavy and musky scent.

He'd wanted to release since first he'd slipped within her. It felt like a long-awaited welcome as he'd missed her body so much. By now he knew every curvaceous contour, every dimple, every detail to the vast expanse of her sweet silky skin. But still so many secrets remained to the body he adored so much and the woman he felt proud and honoured to call his. The aching in his groin as he plummeted impossibly deeper with a growing speed made him want to explode. She was tightening around him, her legs wrapping around his waist as she gasped with each strong plunge that joined their bodies completely.

As Robert yielded closer to the edge of climatic bliss, he concentrated on every detail, determined to hang on to the memory of holding his woman in his arms and making love to her. The smell of her fading perfume mixed with the scent of her feminine fluid hung in his nostrils and sent heat surging through him. The touch of her warm smooth skin against his own, her hands moving through his hair, down his back and up his chest in senseless patterns had become a motion he'd come to want more than anything. Her erotic and less-than-innocent moans would echo in his ears long after the moment they left her lips.

Every sensuous thrust that brought their bodies closer to perfect unison, Robert outlined her lips with his tongue, applying affection down her throat, making her back arch while the tempt of climax hung over them. He slipped a hand from her breast, down her side to where their bodies joined and rubbed the tip of his finger over her swollen bead.

"Oh Robert," she muttered, her hands gripping his shoulders. He applied a gentle pressure to where she craved it.

"I love you Cora," he said desperately.

Her eyes opened and looked at him with the fighting passion he'd longed for since their second daughter had been born.

"I love you," she breathed.

She was utterly beautiful in her release, a gutteral moan of his name, her body thrust up against his while slowly every part of her relaxed. His own juices flowed with hers, dribbling down her inner thighs and leaving his dick wet as he withdrew.

"Hmm," she sighed contentedly as he wrapped himself around her.

She curled into him, winding her legs around his and almost instantly falling to sleep in his arms. Robert watched her drift off and as the heat of their culminations began to subside his thoughts became clearer again. He truly hoped he now had her back from the dark place she'd been, but something told him it wasn't going to be quite that simple. Nevertheless, the lapse in her unhappiness had proved the perfect reunion and for that night at least, Robert was going to enjoy just holding her close.

Robert's plans did not work out that day - they did not catch the train to London, stay at the house, see a theatre show he would hate but she would love, attend the annual ball for Lords and Ladies at The Borough Music Hall (if it hadn't burnt down again) - nor did they spend hours in the bedroom. It seemed his notion had been right, Cora remained unwell another three months before coming out the other side of her depression. Robert did continue to research perculiar methods to 'cheer her up' but once Cora was well again he did not practise a single one of his "methods" again.

That is except... for one activity which he practised several times in years later, coming to rather perfect the art for Cora.

"Aaaaaaaannnnndddddd..."

It was of course-

"HER DARK BROWN HAIR WAS HANGING DOWN HER BAAAACK!"

The strip tease.

* * *

_And her golden hair was hanging down her back. Copyright, 1894, by Frank Tousey. Written and composed by Felix McGlennon and Monroe Rosenfeld. Just to y'know... abide by copyright law and whatever. __A very happy Valentine's to you all!_  



End file.
